


Lives Cut Much Too Short

by IndigoFudge



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: AU, Angst, Ben Hanscom Dies, Beverly Marsh Dies, Bill Denbrough Dies, Character Death, Eddie Kaspbrak Dies, Hurt/Comfort, Mike Hanlon Dies, Richie Tozier Dies, Stanley Uris Dies, there was no point in me writing this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26534581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoFudge/pseuds/IndigoFudge
Summary: What if the members of the Losers Club had died as kids?This is probably the saddest thing I've ever written.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom & Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough & Mike Hanlon & Ben Hanscom & Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough & Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak & Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris
Comments: 12
Kudos: 21





	1. Stanley Uris Gets Impaled

**Author's Note:**

> TW for death of a child, blood and violence, and just. Pure angst.

Four out of the six Losers run into the small cavern and stop short at the sight of Stan on the ground, Its mouth clamped around his face.

“Get off of him!” Ben yells, throwing a rock. It hisses, retracting Its teeth from Stan’s head. Ben takes a step forward. “Go! Get out of here!”

It reels backward and screeches. One of Its claws is run through Stan’s stomach, pinning him down. A pool of blood spreads across the cold stone floor - blood that belongs inside Stan's body but that is now out of it. 

Richie’s mouth falls open when he sees the wound. With a roar, he lunges, clutching the baseball bat at his shoulder. “Get the fuck away from him!” he screams. "You asshole! You fucking clown!" He's filled with more anger than he's ever felt in his entire life.

It tears Its claw out and scurries away, peeking around the corner before disappearing into the shadows.

“Stan!” Mike yells, frozen.

Richie runs over to where Stan is curled up on the ground, hands hovering, unsure what to do because he is a thirteen-year-old child who should never have to face something like this. “Shit! Stan, look at me!”

Stan backs up against the wall, yelling in pain. He holds trembling hands to his stomach. “No, no, please, no,” he says, voice raw. This is wrong. There should not be a hole straight through his stomach. He should not be able to see his own blood as it rushes from his body. 

“Hey! It’s me, Richie! You’re okay, It’s gone!” Richie puts his hands on both of Stan’s shoulders. “It’s gone! You’re okay!” He's repeating the words as if they'll become true if he says them enough.

Stan whimpers, looking at the mess of blood. “I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”

Eddie crawls up next to Stan and hugs him. “You’re not gonna die, Stan!” Eddie’s eyes are filled with tears as he frantically puts pressure on the wound. “You’re gonna be fine!” 

Richie wraps his arms around Stan, too. “You’re okay, Stan, you’ll be okay! Eds is a doctor, he knows this stuff.”

“It hurts,” cries Stan. “It hurts!” Pain rockets through him. 

Ben kneels and takes off his own shirt. That's all he can really do - press the cloth to the wound and hope for the best. Medical stuff has always made him squeamish but he remembers when Eddie had patched him up, you have to disinfect the wound and stop the bleeding but they don't have anything to disinfect it with so all that's left is to stop the bleeding.

Stan coughs, staring in terror as he sees blood come out. “Eddie, I’m gonna die!” His cheeks are streaked with tears. “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to go. Please don’t let me die.”

“You’re not,” lies Richie.

“I’m s-s-sorry, Stan.” Bill stands several feet back, panicked. “I didn’t mean-“

“You made me come into Neibolt,” Stan sobs. He takes all of his anger and fear and directs it towards Bill. “You made me die. You’re not my friend.” _I don't really hate him,_ he thinks, the words coming to him in snatches as they move through his sluggish brain. _But it's easier to. And if I'm mad, I'm not thinking about how much it hurts._ It is broken logic, but it's good enough for Stan. 

Mike tries to get closer; Stan shrinks back but lets himself be touched.

“You’re not my friends,” he whispers again, eyes half closed. He’s shivering violently. “You’re not... my...”

Eddie and Richie and Mike trade a heartbroken glance. Then Richie gives Stan his Hawaiian shirt, tucking it around him. “Here, does this help?”

It’s a thin shirt, but Stan pulls it tighter anyway because it's better than nothing. He doesn’t look at Richie or Eddie or any of them. Instead he fixates his gaze on the blood that's streaked down his midsection. “I’m s-so cold,” he whispers, slumping forward.

Eddie helps him lean back against the wall. “You’re gonna be okay. Keep your eyes open. Bill, go take Mike and get some help,” he orders. “I can’t move him. His spine could be broken.”

“My spine?” Stan’s voice wavers. “Shit, I... I don’t feel good.” His eyes roll back in his head as he passes out for a second, everything becoming too much to bear.

Richie shakes him awake. “You can’t go falling asleep on us, old chum!” He puts on the Voice of a delightful British gentleman, hoping it will make Stan smile. _Stan shouldn't have to die scared,_ Richie thinks. _No one should._ “Come on, turn that frown upside down. That's it. Why the long face? You're not a horse! You don't eat hay! You don't have hooves! Why, you're a human boy, like Pinocchio!”

Stan looks at Richie and manages the tiniest smile to thank him for his efforts, but then his eyelids droop. “Just let me rest my eyes for a second,” he says. “Just for a second.” _Gotta sleep_ , he thinks. _Gotta get your rest so you can be all ready for your bar mitzvah tomorrow, Stanley. It's a big day, a very big day. You'll become a man. But you haven't been studying, you're never going to be ready. You'll just be a disappointment in front of all of us. I'm embarrassed to have you as a son._ He's thinking the words, but they'd come from his father's mouth.

Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “No! You have to keep your eyes open! Keep talking!”

But Stan is getting quieter and quieter, his thoughts slowing down to a stop. 

“Don’t let me die,” he mumbles. “Don’t let me...”

His eyes close completely.

“Stan?” Richie says, voice cracking. “Stan, no. No, please!” _This is the scariest thing that fucking clown could ever do_ , he thinks. _Please just be a trick._

Stan doesn’t take another breath.

Eddie feels for a pulse and finds none. He notes that Stan's skin is freezing cold and nearly white; he looks at the blood on the ground and estimates how much there is; he sees that Stan is stock still and not moving even the tiniest bit. He _knows_ what has just happened. He _knows_ the same way he knew his arm was broken when he fell through the floor some months ago. He _knows_ but he wishes he didn't. 

"He's okay, right?" Richie is looking at Eddie hysterically. "Right? You can fix him?!"

"I..." Eddie trails off. For once in his life, he can't think of what to say. "Richie, I'm sorry." Then he turns to Stan and apologizes to him too, even though he _knows_ Stan can't hear him.

Richie cries, burying his face in Stan's chest. "Fucking wake up!" he yells. "Please!"

No one else talks. Bill is speechless, indescribable sadness written on his face. Stan was his first friend and his best friend. Stan was always worried about something. Stan was a fan of sitting at the birdbath near the Standpipe and watching the birds come and go. Stan was the coolest person he knew. _Was. Was. Was._

Mike hadn't known Stan for that long but he is sad all the same. He knows how it feels to watch helplessly as the people you love die. _But you weren't really helpless, were you?_ says the terrible voice in his head. _You could have saved your parents but you sat idly by. You could have saved Stan but you sat idly by. Because that is what you do, Mike - you sit idly by._ The voice laughs and sounds a little bit like a clown.

Everyone's heartbroken and Ben should be too, but right now he can't feel it. Right now he is numb. His scar itches; he doesn't care. He just stares off into space and pretends that there is not the corpse of a boy his age, the corpse of his _friend_ , lying right near him.

Stan is not bleeding anymore. Stan is not breathing anymore. Stan is not talking or moving or doing anything anymore.

Stan is _dead._

And the Losers Club will never be the same.


	2. Eddie Kaspbrak Gets Dismembered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, TW for death of a child, blood, violence, etc. Also homophobia. And brief emetophobia warning.
> 
> Bonus alternate ending where Eddie lives because I'm weak.

Richie and Bill run into the room to find It about to kill Eddie. Enraged, Richie lunges. "Listen to me, you motherfucker!" he shouts, trying to yank It backwards by the collar of Its suit. "I will rip your fucking head off if you touch him! Don't you _dare_ even hurt him!"

Eddie's cheeks are streaked with tears. He can barely breathe, but his inhaler is several feet away. _Is this how I die?_ he thinks, panicking. _Of an asthma attack in an abandoned house?_ His heart thuds against his ribcage. _It's dirty, and there are so many germs! It's absolutely disgusting! I don't want to die here!_

"Are you scared, Eds?" The clown laughs as if Eddie's mortal terror is the funniest thing in the world to It. "Are you a damsel in distress? A princess in a tower? Well, your prince isn't coming to save you today!" It opens Its awful, awful mouth, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth.

 _I want my Ma,_ Eddie thinks. He knows it's stupid - he's thirteen years old, after all, and he shouldn't need his mother to comfort him when he's scared. Sometimes he doesn't even like her all that much. But the truth remains that she's safe, and she makes him feel safe, or at least some imitation of it. Okay, fine. Richie makes him feel safe, too; often he makes him feel safer than Sonia does. _Oh, Eddie, you shouldn't be thinking about other boys like that_ , Sonia croons in his head. _You don't want to be sicker, do you, Eddie-bear?_

 _Shut up,_ Eddie says, silencing the voice. Then he apologizes. _Sorry, that was rude, Mommy. I love you. I just have to focus on this right now, so I can't talk._ He tries to crawl away from It, to kick at It, to stop It somehow, but he can't. Its grip on him is too strong. "Richie!" he cries, locking eyes with Richie who is still trying to pull It back. "I can't get-"

Blinding pain. Eddie screams. Richie does too, unable to intervene as It bites Eddie's arm off at the shoulder. Blood gushes from the wound.

" _You fucking asshole, I'm going to fucking kill you!"_ roars Richie. He takes several steps back until he's standing next to Bill, and then the two of them run towards It, colliding with all the strength they can muster. Bill continues forcing It back while Richie kneels at Eddie's side and calls for the others.

"Eddie," he says, tears filling his eyes. He shrugs off his shirt and holds it to the stump. "Look at me! Please, Eds, look at me! You’re okay! You’re okay, see? Just a scratch!” Richie knows it's not just a scratch, he's not blind, he's not stupid. But if he pretends things will be fine then maybe they will.

Eddie sobs, not tearing his eyes away from where Bill has cornered It and is now stabbing It repeatedly with Bev's help. He finally manages to turn back towards Richie. "Richie," he whispers, bottom lip trembling. There are so many things he wants to say, but all he can get out is "That was really brave."

***"Yeah, yeah. Just doing my job. Now don't talk!" Richie waves Ben and Stan over, gaze never leaving Eddie. "You're the medical genius, Dr. K. What do we do? How do we help you?" He mimes putting on rubber gloves like all the doctors do in those medical television shows his dad likes. _Scalpel, please_ , they'd say. Richie doesn't think he needs a scalpel now. What he needs is probably a needle and thread, and a new arm. He imagines sewing it on, good as new, and being hailed a hero.

"Put pressure on it," hisses Eddie, but it's getting harder and harder to see and talk and move and breathe. At least Bev and Bill have temporarily subdued It and are crouching beside him. "Stop the bleeding. 40% - that's how much blood I can lose before..." He trails off, unwilling to finish the sentence. 

He's obviously lost more than 40% of his blood already, Eddie knows that. So does Richie and everyone else. They're just ignoring it for the sake of acting like everything is okay. "Should we call your m-m-m-" Bill starts, his cheeks reddening as he can't get the word out. It doesn't matter, though. Eddie seems to understand what he means. 

"No," he wheezes. "She'll kill me."

No one states the obvious, which is that he's dying anyways.

"Eddie, look at me," Richie tries again. He cups Eddie's head between his hands, smearing blood on his cheeks. "Look at me! Don't close your eyes! Keep 'em peeled like you're a pirate captain on the lookout for monstrous whales! Keep 'em peeled like you're on a submarine looking for life at the bottom of the ocean! Keep 'em peeled like you're going on a wildlife safari and want to see some giraffes! Can you keep 'em peeled for me, Eddie Spaghetti?"

Eddie does not answer. It takes too much effort to talk and besides, if he talks then he'll accidentally let it slip that he likes all the nicknames Richie gives him, and he doesn't really want anyone to know that.

"Well, if you can't stay awake on your own, I'll have to keep you awake! You can't fall asleep if I'm talking to you!" Richie's words fall away into tears as he sings as many toy and cereal commercial jingles that he can think of. Even though it's stupid and wildly inappropriate for the situation, he doesn't know what else to do, he has to keep Eddie conscious. Under normal circumstances, he'd be able to continue doing this for hours - he watches too much television, his mom is always saying so - but right now he's so jittery and anxious that he runs out of them within minutes. "I can't think of any more. It's your turn. You sing me some jingles. You may not be anywhere near as good at Voices as I am, but you can sure try." He holds out an imaginary microphone.

Eddie still does not respond, but this time it is for an entirely different reason. He just stares up at the ceiling.

Richie's face falls. "I know I told you not to talk, but I changed my mind! You can talk now! Come on, Eds!"

Eddie doesn't say "Don't call me Eds." He doesn't say anything.

From a few feet away, where he's got an arm around Bev's shoulders, Bill tears up. “He’s g-gone.”

“No, he’s okay! He’s... he's _hurt_! We have to take him out of here, he’s just hurt!” Richie looks at the others pleadingly, and then throws a quick glance back at Pennywise, who has managed to wrench Itself free of the rebar but is standing stock still with a gleeful look on Its face.

“Richie,” Bev starts. “Richie, he’s dead. Now come on, we have to _go!_ It is still in here! We stopped It, but we don't know for how long!”

“No, he’s not dead!” cries Richie as the others drag him away. “He’s not!!” He hugs Eddie to his chest, ignoring the bloody stump where Eddie’s arm once was. "We've got to bring him out! This place is dirty, and Eddie hates dirt!" _Eddie hates dirt, he hates germs, he hates the clown - he actually hates everything about this place, so we really have to take him. It just makes sense. Why would we leave him here? We're his_ friends _. Friends don't leave friends in crackhouses!_

Ben and Bill grab Richie’s arms and pull him up, tugging him away from Eddie. But that is _his_ Eddie, hurt on the ground! Why can’t they see that? "W-w-where would we take him, R-Richie?" Bill asks. "T-to the hospital? The p-p-police? They w-wouldn't do anything."

“Let me go!! I have to go in there and get him!” Richie has tunnel vision; he loses his grip on Eddie, slipping backwards on the rotten floor and leaving a trail in the dust. "Stan, help!"

"I'm sorry, Richie," Stan says, looking just as unhappy about it as Richie is. He doesn't want to leave Eddie here either - Richie can tell. "They're right, we have to go."

Pennywise walks slowly over to Eddie's body. “Say bye bye, Richie!” It calls, waving Eddie’s torn off arm. "Say bye bye to your damsel in distress! You couldn't save him! You tried and you couldn't save him! He died... in _your arms!_ Why didn't you try harder to stop it? Why didn't you call an-" It makes a surprising accurate siren noise- "-ambulance? Oh, just think! He's dead because of you!"

The Losers break out into a run, hauling Richie along behind them, only stopping when they get to their bikes. 

“We have to go back there!” Richie screams. “We can’t let It get him! He’s still in there! We can't leave him alone with It!" But his cries are dying down. He seems to be crushing himself into submission. The fiery look in his eyes has gone cold and blank, just like Eddie's eyes when he died. _Because of you!_ laughs the clown wickedly in Richie's head. _Yes! It happened because of you! Now he's going to rot and get eaten by maggots and I'll have a nice tasty meal, all because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself!_

 _I tried_ , thinks Richie. _I tried not to tell him. I didn't want him to know, I didn't want anyone to know. I knew if he knew, he'd hate me. And maybe he'd be right to. I mean, just look at me. I got him_ killed. _I got my best friend_ killed.

Richie is resigned. 

He is broken.

He is _thirteen_ , and Eddie ~~is~~ was _thirteen,_ and this should never have happened. Thirteen-year-olds aren't supposed to die, especially not in their friend's arms from having their limbs ripped off and becoming fountains of blood before their fucking hearts give out. But then again, he supposes that little kids aren't supposed to die either. That's what made Georgie's death so bad, and the gory deaths of all the other small children that were taken by It. The thought makes Richie feel sick. He pulls over momentarily to vomit on the side of the road, and then he keeps pedaling.

It takes months for him to stop crying himself to sleep.

* * *

***Alternate ending:

"Yeah, yeah. Just doing my job. Now don't talk. I-" Richie cuts himself off, blinking, as Eddie's arm seems to flicker into view before disappearing. _Trick of the light?_ he tries to convince himself, but then it happens again. "Eds! Your arm!"

Eddie glances at the stump and then back at Richie. "What?" But he jolts, because for a split second he can feel his left arm like a phantom limb.

Off in the corner, Pennywise looks mad. "What's wrong, Eds? Have any last words?"

 _The doors_ , thinks Richie. _The doors were there and then they weren't. It wasn't real, none of it was._ "Eddie, it's fake! It's all fake!"

"What's fake?" Eddie gets an idea of what Richie's talking about; his arm is supposed to be gone but he can _see_ it fading in and out. It hits him now that even though he should have lost more than 40% of his blood volume at this point, he doesn't feel dizzy or cold or sick at all. He just feels angry. Even the pain is going away. "Holy shit!" 

Pennywise growls. "Can't you feel your life running out of you like water down the drain?" It _shrinks_ , about an inch smaller. 

"No!" Eddie grabs onto Richie's hand and gets to his feet, wobbling a bit but quickly regaining his balance. "I'm _fine!"_ He waves his hands around, blinking until his left arm comes fully into focus. "You're a fucking liar! I'm _fine!_ " The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that he is _fine._ He's not even having trouble breathing anymore. Was that fake, too? Was his bitter-tasting medicine even medicine? 

The clown ducks out of Bill's grasp, slipping away to the top of the stairs. Its white painted face is chipping off and floating away in pieces. "You filthy children," It seethes. "You don't know what you're dealing with!" It disappears down the staircase, a haunting laugh echoing throughout the house.

Richie whoops. "That's my Eddie Spaghetti! Scaring clowns away is your middle name!" He snaps Eddie's right arm into place while Eddie is distracted.

"Asshole!" Eddie snaps, punching him. "You didn't even warn me!"

"That's the point, Eds." Richie flashes his charming smile, and even though his tears aren't even dry and he's shaking with adrenaline, he feels better than he's felt in a long time. "Now come on, my liege! The clown can wait! Let's bring thee to a hospital!"


	3. Richie Tozier Gets Dropped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again - TW for death of a child, blood, violence, angst, etc.
> 
> Watch me be wildly inconsistent with the POV in each chapter :)

"I told you, Bill. I fucking told you. I don't want to die," Richie says, and tightens his grip on the baseball bat. "You punched me in the face. You made me walk through shitty water. You brought me to a fucking crackhead house. And now... now I'm gonna have to kill this fucking clown. Welcome to the Losers Club, asshole!" He pulls the bat back; prepares to swing- but before he can-

Pennywise drops Bill and lunges forward, tearing the bat right out of Richie's hands. "Oh! What have we here?" It snaps the weapon in half. "Why, just a silly piece of wood! Is that all? Did you think you could hurt me with that little thing?" 

Richie swallows hard. "I don't _think_ I can hurt you, I _know_ I can," he says, but he's rooted to the spot with fear as Pennywise advances. "S-so you better back off, fucker!" His voice falters.

"How _daring_ ," sneers Pennywise, lips curling. "Richie Tozier thought he could be brave!" It laughs, growing in size, feeding off Richie's fear. As It gets taller and taller, the Losers shrink back.

"Come on, Richie!" Eddie calls, trying to grab Richie by the wrist and missing. "What are you waiting for?"

By the time Richie manages to get unfrozen and move, It's too late. He slips in a puddle of gray water. "Help!" he calls. Tears creep into his voice. Fingers scrabbling for purchase on the slimy ground, he gulps in a breath. " _Help!"_ But it's no use. It grabs him by the ankle, dangling him midair.

"You couldn't quite get the _hang_ of fighting, couldja?" It crows. "Look at you - so small... so _weak..._ you pretend that you're strong, but I can see inside you, and you are terrified." The last few words come out in a low growl. 

Richie starts to cry. 

_I don't want to die_ , he thinks. _Please, god or aliens or whatever, don't let me die._ His stomach does a flip as Pennywise tosses him up. Through mostly closed eyes, Richie can see snatches of the big pile in the middle of the room; of the cracked stone walls; of his friends. But mostly he sees It.

And then he hits the ground. 

" _Richie!"_ Eddie shouts, running over. "Are you hurt?"

Richie tries to stand, but as soon as weight is put on his right leg, he collapses again in agony. "Jesus fucking Christ!" He touches his right thigh with trembling hands. "I think- I think I broke my bone! My thigh bone! My- my tibia? No, my- _fuck_ \- whatever bone is in my thigh!"

"Your femur?!" Eddie helps Richie sit up. _This is_ _bad_ , he thinks. _Broken femur means Richie can't walk. If he can't walk, he can't climb back up the rope to get out of here._ "Okay, hang on! We need to... um..." 

"Holy sh-sh-shit," Bill stammers out. He kneels down, followed by Ben and Bev and Mike and Stan. "Are y-you okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay, Einstein!" Richie's voice is shrill. A sob escapes him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees It - back to Its normal size - watching from afar with a smirk on Its face. Richie hisses. "Eddie, I don't want to die here!"

Eddie's breath quickens; he's on the cusp of having a panic attack. "You're not going to die," he assures Richie, though truthfully he doesn't know; he's never seen anyone with a broken femur in real life before. Once he caught his Ma watching a movie with some guy who'd been in a bad car crash, and _his_ femur was broken, but Sonia had ushered Eddie out of the room before he'd seen anything else. "You can't fight It like this, so we have to take you out!"

"I'll help carry you," Stan volunteers, leaning down and pulling Richie up. "Bill, Mike, Ben, Bev- we'll be right back. Don't do anything stupid without us." He and Eddie help Richie walk but it's a slow process - Richie's bad leg drags on the ground. They don't get far before Pennywise blocks the entrance. 

"You're not going anywhere," It says. Saliva drips from Its lips as Its mouth forms a menacing smile. It pulls Richie forward by the collar of his shirt, tracing sharp claws down his jawline. "Do you think they care about you, Richie Tozier? Do you think that if they learned who you really are, they wouldn't drop you like that? Don't get too full of yourself! All it takes is one... little..." With a snap of Its fingers, a wound suddenly appears in Richie's thigh, maggots swarming from the broken skin.

Richie screams and tries to brush them away, but the second he touches them they vanish. His heart rises in his throat. 

"Richie!" Eddie wants to take a step closer, he wants to help, but _that Richie boy is a Bad Influence, Eddie-bear, and I don't want you hanging out around him._ God, Sonia's voice sounds so _real_ , and even though Eddie knows she's only in his head, it's hard to ignore it. He steels himself, yanking Richie out of the clown's grip. "Don't touch him," he seethes.

"So brave. It's adorable." Pennywise applauds, sticking Its bottom lip out. "But there's nothing you can do. May I ask how you think you're going to climb out of here with a broken leg, and then get all the way to a hospital? You're going to _die!_ Ha!" 

"Don't listen to him," Eddie says. "Richie, we're going to get you out of here! I swear!" 

"How?!" Richie's panicking now, shaking with fear, having a death grip on Eddie's shoulders. "It's right! I can't climb the rope with a fucked up leg! You guys are going to have to leave me down here!"

"No." Stan is crying. _(Stan! Stan never cries!)_ "I won't leave you down here. You didn't leave me when It bit my face, I- I won't leave you. We'll find some way to take you out."

"Promise?" Richie asks. He hates that he sounds so vulnerable, but it's hard not to - he can hardly stop crying enough to get the word out.

Eddie looks him in the eyes. " _Promise,_ " he says. Although inside, he's thinking _No, Richie! I can't promise that! I don't think I can carry you out!_

It grins, growing bigger again. "Your fear is delicious!" It giggles maniacally, reaching out, almost snagging the hem of Mike's shirt. "I can't wait to eat you all."

"We gotta g-go," Bill says in a hushed whisper. "We g-g-gotta go _now."_

"What about Richie?" Eddie holds Richie closer. They're both trembling like a leaf. 

Bill pauses. "We'll c-come back for him." _But you know that's not true, Billy,_ says the clown's voice in his head. _You're abandoning him. Just like you abandoned Georgie._ His lower lip trembles. "I'm s-sorry, we have to _g-g-go!_ "

Eddie hugs Richie desperately. He hugs Richie fiercely. He hugs Richie until the Losers drag him off. " _Richie!"_ he yells at the top of his lungs. " _Richie!_ I'm sorry! _Richie!"_ He can't catch his breath, can't see anything except for Richie's tearstained face.

Richie watches with a resigned expression as the Losers climb back up the rope. Bill and Mike have to drag Eddie, who is hysterical and frantically trying to get back down. " _Richie!"_ He's still crying. " _Richie!_ Guys, let me fucking go! We have to go get him! We're not _fucking leaving him_ in the _fucking sewers_ underneath this _fucking crackhead house_ with this _fucking clown!_ _Richie! Richie!_ " 

He thinks of his mother, how she would always bring out iced tea for everyone when they'd go over to his house. He thinks of his father, how he would always let Richie stay up and watch television with him, even past Richie's bedtime. He thinks of Stan, how he would always be there for Richie no matter how stupid Richie was. He thinks of Bill, how he was the only person in Richie's class to be nice to him on the first day of kindergarten. He thinks of Eddie, how he would keep up Richie's banter effortlessly. He thinks of Bev, how she's tough as nails and has damn near perfect aim. He thinks of Ben, how he's hopelessly loyal and would do anything for the Losers Club. He thinks of Mike, how he's a new addition to the team, but strong and brave as fuck.

He sees Pennywise unhinge Its jaw.

At 5:41 PM, in the Derry sewers, Richie Tozier dies.

And at 3:17 PM, a week later in the Derry sewers, when the remaining 6 Losers come back to finish It off, they find Richie's body propped up in the middle of the cavern - a hole carved out of his chest and a single trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

They defeat It quicker than ever.

Eddie doesn't leave his room for the rest of the summer. After that, he goes through the motions, but doesn't eat as much and gets thinner until he is just skin and bones. When he finally leaves Derry, forgetting is almost a mercy.

Stan has nightmares for years afterward. He wakes up in a cold sweat, crying, Richie's name in his mouth. No one understands, especially not his father. He moves out of Derry as soon as he can, going to college to become an accountant, and doesn't even try to remember his friends. 

Bill keeps his mouth shut. Not much changes for him because he was already in a permanent state of grief over Georgie, now he just has another name to add to the list. He moves away, meets an aspiring actress named Audra; she gets famous and then he does soon after. 

Bev is numb, but at least she has plans to go live with her aunt pretty quickly. She doesn't want to remember - the only reason she promises to write is for Ben and Bill. It turns out that none of it matters anyway because as the weeks pass Derry leaves her mind.

As far as Ben is concerned, there's nothing left for him in Derry after Bev leaves. What friends he had at some point are completely different now. Once he gathers enough money, he's out of this town. It stops hurting eventually.

Mike stays. He goes through the pain every single day and learns to live with it. But it never really goes away.


End file.
